“Interesting. I have yet to form a strong opinion of it,” he said politely.
“Then you intend to remain for a while?”
“I will be performing for a few months here, yes. As to whether I intend to make it my permanent base of operations, we shall see. And you?”
He did not expect her to launch into a complete and honest answer. A touch of coquetry, the outline of a smile, those would have been suitable. This had been Valérie’s way.
The girl clutched his hand excitedly. “I’ll most definitely be here until the summer. I am spending all of the spring with my cousin. My mother thinks a time in the city would do me good. Where are you lodging? My cousin’s house is in Saint Illare.”
“I think you’ve asked another bold question,” he informed her.
“Is it, really?”
Her words were candid and he found himself amused by the naivety. Rather than schooling her with a scowl and a clipped yes, which normally suited him magnificently, he gave her a proper answer.
“To the east. Boniface. Not as smart as your cousin’s house, I would wager,” he said.
“Boniface. Is that so you can remain near the theater?”
“Indeed.”
“I’m sure it’s smart enough. Boniface.”
As the dance ended, a young man moved in their direction, his eyes on Antonina. Hector was going to incline his head and release the girl, but on contemplating the look of pure panic that crossed her face, he did his best to suppress a chuckle and instead asked her for a second dance. She accepted and told him the man who had been moving toward them was poor Didier. In the end, he danced a total of three dances with Nina, but since two of the three were lively stevkas, they did not speak more than a few words.
After he had thanked her for the dances and strolled away, Étienne Lémy and his little brother, Luc, wandered over. Étienne was Hector’s age and Luc a handful of years younger, though looking at them, people always swore they were twins, so alike were they, both possessing the same blond hair and stylish mustache. They furthered the illusion that evening by wearing matching gray vests.
“There you are, you devil. I couldn’t find you anywhere,” Étienne said, clasping his shoulder. “For a moment I thought you’d left.”
“Not at all. I was dancing,” Hector said.
“We saw. With Miss Beaulieu,” Luc replied.
Hector did not realize until then that the girl had given him only her first name. He had not bothered to inquire further.
“Beaulieu?” he managed to say.
“Surely you’ve heard of them. Gaetan Beaulieu. She is his cousin,” Luc said. “You have not met Gaetan?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“You must. He has the most magnificent wife imaginable, the most beautiful woman in all of the city, Va—”
“Valérie,” Hector said, interrupting him.
“Yes. You do know them, then?”
“We both had the chance to meet Valérie before she was married to Gaetan, when she was in Frotnac,” Étienne said, maneuvering Luc by his elbow and turning him around. “Luc, why don’t you dance with Mari? She’s our cousin and looks quite alone.”
Luc glanced at a young woman standing by a mirror, the picture of a wallflower. The youngest Lémy made a face as though he had swallowed a lemon. “For good reason.”
“Go on, Luc. It is your burden as a gentleman.”
“She is a third cousin, and you know Mother keeps buzzing in my ear about her, driving me to madness,” Luc protested.
“The more reason to dance with her,” Étienne pressed on with a voice that allowed no further reproach.
The younger man let out an exasperated sigh but went in search of the lady.
